Sleeping in Flowerbeds
by Watch Me Fall Apart
Summary: "He loves me, he loves me not." What happens when Seychelles gets England addicted to plucking petals? FrUk fluff. Based off of an amazingly adorable web comic I found. Contains yaoi. Don't like, don't read. Word count: 2,405


**Another random spurt of inspiration…a little sad, but it has a happy ending, so I hope you all like. XD Enjoi~**

**Human names used. This is my first fluff story ever, so go easy on me if it gets too hard. And I've noticed something. In almost every one of my Hetalia fanfics, I have France as a major character. God knows how much I love France. XD**

**Inspired by: .net/1026101**

**Disclaimer: Is there ever a moment you see England and France getting along to the point of kissing? No? Then I don't own Hetalia.**

Sleeping in Flowerbeds

'_I'm pathetic…'_ He thought hopelessly, his green eyes staring at the mess of petals on the ground and in his lap. _'Have I honestly reduced myself to this?'_ he asked himself, before remembering what had driven him to the daisies.

_{[(Three days ago…)]}_

_Walking down the halls of the school, Arthur looked around, trying to find that mop of long blonde hair. He stood up on his toes to see better as students crowded the hallway and thought he saw him wander outside. Sighing in frustration, the green eyed teen started to shove his way through the crowd, trying to reach Francis. Once he got outside, he immediately began looking around. All he saw was a young girl with long curly brown pigtails, picking off the petals of a daisy. _

"_Michelle, what are you doing?" Arthur asked as he approached, making the young girl jump in surprise. "Sorry," he muttered at her surprised glance. _

"_I'm just playing a game. Don't you know what it is?" she asked, looking still more surprised. Arthur shook his head, an expression of confusion on his face. Michelle smiled. "Here, I'll show you." She said, patting the grass next to her and offering him a daisy. Sitting down next to Michelle, Arthur took the daisy and spun it a few times in his fingers, smiling mentally at its delicate beauty. Michelle smiled at Arthur, thinking it amusing that even though she was younger than him, she was teaching him a game older than herself. _

_Arthur looked to Michelle to see her still smiling and he raised an inquiring eyebrow at her. Her smile widened and she scooted closer to him and picked a petal off of his daisy. "If you love someone a lot and want to find out if they'll ever love you back, people usually pick petals off of daisies or other flowers saying 'He loves me, he loves me not' with each petal." Holding up the removed petal for Arthur to see, she said, "He loves you. Now you try." Letting the petal fall to the ground. _

_Blushing, Arthur picked off the next petal. "H-he loves me not…" he said and Michelle smiled encouragingly at him. He continued with the petals until he got to the last one. It was a 'loves me not'. He stared at the flower with its solitary petal before letting it fall, stem and all, from his fingers onto the grass where the rest of the petals lay. "What do I do now?" he asked Michelle, not understanding the point of the game if it only crushed your hopes. She handed him another daisy. _

"_You start over." She said._

_{[(Present)]}_

Arthur sighed and looked at the mess of petals all around him. That was his twenty-third daisy. Impulsively, he reached for another, but none were there. Blinking out of his dreamy haze, he looked around to see that he'd gone through an entire patch of daisies. Sighing again, Arthur lay down in the discarded petals and stared at the darkening sky. It was getting late…but he couldn't seem to get up from that spot just yet.

Once it was completely dark, with only the moon and stars for light, Arthur finally stood and brushed petals off of his lap and back, moving away from his mess of disappointment. He'd ended up with 'loves me not' on almost every single flower.

Walking down the street the few blocks it took to get to his house, Arthur seemed to be dragging his feet, like he didn't want to go home. Usually, going home made him ecstatic. Because _he_ was there. But now he just wanted to go back to his daisies and sulk. He knew it was just a game, and that it wasn't real, but he couldn't help himself. With each new flower, he kept thinking _'They can't all say no…'_ and each time being proven wrong. He was starting to hate daisies.

Finally getting to his house, Arthur opened the door and called out to the others, "I'm home!" Taking off his shoes before wandering around the house to see who else was there. He shared the house with three others; Francis, Alfred, and Matthew. Between the four of them, they all worked jobs, all supported each other, and all attended the same school. They'd met at the introduction meeting a few months before school opened and all decided (Well, _Alfred_ decided) to be roomies. Turns out, Alfred and Matthew were brothers. Not by blood, though. They were adopted by their father.

The school they all attended was a 'special' school that chose the smartest students from each country and offered them an education there, and possibly a scholarship. Arthur had been chosen, like the others, to attend the school.

Walking around the house, Arthur found Alfred in the kitchen, stuffing his face as usual. Alfred tried to say something, but his words were muffled by the food in his mouth. Arthur offered him a small wave before continuing into the living room. Matthew was passed out on the couch. Leaning over the young blonde, Arthur gently shook him awake. Blinking awake, Matthew looked at Arthur with a smile and a quiet hello. Arthur smiled back and let Matthew walk off to his room to get back to sleep.

Sighing, as he couldn't find Francis, Arthur began to walk off toward his own room. He hadn't noticed how tired he was until now. In his room, Arthur was surprised to find Francis there, putting away a pile of Arthur's laundry. Looking up at Arthur's arrival, Francis smiled. "I wasn't expecting you to be home so soon. I thought you'd gone to a friends." Francis said, looking embarrassed at being caught doing chores.

Arthur nodded. "I was just taking a walk." He said, walking over to his bed, keeping an eye on Francis.

"Ah, well, I'll be going then…" Francis said, but he didn't move. He was staring intently at Arthur. Arthur opened his mouth to ask what Francis was doing, but stopped when the Frenchman came closer and lifted a hand to his hair. Not a moment later, Francis removed his hand from Arthur's hair, a light yellow petal in his hands. Arthur's cheeks went pink. "Sleeping in someone's flowerbeds?" Francis teased, handing Arthur the petal. Arthur took the petal and stuttered over his words.

"N-no, I mean yes, I-I mean…" he stopped speaking when Francis laughed and walked to the door. "It's okay. Get some sleep." He said, smiling teasingly at Arthur before walking away. Arthur was left there embarrassed and a little less than hopeful.

+…+

That night, Arthur didn't get much sleep. No matter how much he told himself he hated them, he couldn't stop obsessing over the flowers. Somehow, they were some sort of outlet for him. For his frustration at never being noticed by Francis as anything more than a 'little brother'. That's all Francis ever saw himself as—the big brother.

Arthur had tried to come out to him many times, and each time, somehow, it was ruined. Antonio and Gilbert would come and drag Francis away, or Alfred would interrupt, or Francis would change the subject or end the conversation. At first it angered him, but then Arthur fell into a state of depression. But ever since Michelle showed him the game with the daisies, Arthur's frustration seemed to be renewed. Sometimes he wasn't even really paying attention to if he was 'loved' or not, and he just tore the flowers to shreds.

Arthur rolled over and pulled his pillow over his head, trying to fall asleep, but the blissful darkness wouldn't come.

Eventually, Arthur got out of bed at least half an hour before his alarm clock. In just fifteen minutes, he was clean and dressed and out the door, munching idly on a scone. Usually, if he woke up with the others, they'd be driving in Francis's car. But since he'd had such the case of insomnia last night, Arthur decided to walk. The school wasn't _that_ far.

Just as he was rounding the corner to the street his school was on, he saw a patch of daisies. He stopped dead in his tracks and stared at the pale yellow flowers anticipation and anxiety gnawing at his mind. Eventually, he gave into the temptation and walked over, picking a few. Deciding it dangerous to stay there, he held the flowers tight as he jogged the remaining distance to the school.

When he got there, the doors were still locked, it being too early. Perhaps he had missed daylight savings, and was actually an entire hour too early? Shaking his head, Arthur dismissed the thought and sat down on one of the benches facing away from the student parking lot. Bringing the flowers into view, Arthur gently stroked their soft petals. They really were beautiful flowers. Picking a petal off of one, Arthur recited, "He loves me," and began once again the game that disappointed him every time.

+Francis+

That morning, Francis woke up to the sound of someone shuffling around the house. Lifting his head a bit to listen, he flopped back down and rolled over, pulling the covers over his head. It was probably just Alfred getting a snack to eat _again_. He fell back asleep.

Not a half hour later, Francis was woken again by his alarm clock. Yawning and stretching, he got out of bed and began his morning routine. He got dressed and walked into Alfred's room, turning on the light and throwing open the blinds to really wake the lazy teen up. He groaned and tried to hide his face in the covers. Francis walked out and knocked gently on Matthew's door, earning a quiet "I'm awake." And the sounds of shuffling from the other side.

Francis turned and did the same at Arthur's door. He got no answer. He knocked again before opening the door and walking into the room. The young Brit wasn't there. A little concerned, Francis checked the bathroom, kitchen, living room, and every other place that Arthur could possibly be at this time of the day. He couldn't find him anywhere. He checked with Alfred and Matthew to see if they'd seen him at all. Neither of them had.

Completely worried by now, Francis walked away from the brothers and grabbed his keys off of the kitchen counter, walking to the front door and slipping on his shoes before hurrying outside. Alfred and Matthew followed.

"Hey, what about us?" Alfred called, not liking that his ride was leaving.

"Catch the bus." Francis replied, pulling out of the driveway and beginning his search for Arthur. His own worry reminded Francis of how much he cared for the young man.

About a month after school had started, and the four boys had already become roommates, Francis had started _noticing_ Arthur. Not just as a scraggly teen who he looked at as a little brother, like he did the others. But as a handsome young man whose bedhead hair made him look like a gorgeous sex god. And Francis would know what that looked like.

Francis had found that he would stare at the young blonde when he wasn't looking, and pretend to be doing something obscenely random if he ever got caught, which usually lifted suspicion. He would also flirt with others a lot more around Arthur, wanting attention and to make him jealous. Or he would flirt more with the boy himself, just wanting to see that adorable pink blush color his cheeks.

Blinking, France turned his attention back to his search. Where would Arthur go? Francis scrolled through a mental list of Arthur's favorite places and crossed nearly all of them off. His worry still weighing down on his shoulders, Francis decided to check the school first. And he sighed in relief when he saw the sandy mop of hair sitting at one of the benches facing the school. Pulling into his usual parking space, Francis parked the car and got out, walking cautiously towards the shorter boy. What was he doing?

+Arthur+

Arthur didn't notice Francis as his car pulled up to the school, or even as the tall Frenchman approached him from behind. He was too intent on the daisies. His lap and the bench and ground were already littered with petals and stems, him having gone through three flowers already. Plucking more petals, he muttered under his breath, "He loves me not, he loves me, he loves me not, he loves me, he loves me not…" before throwing yet another stem to the side and going for another flower.

They were still all 'love me not's.

+Francis+

As Francis got closer, he was confused. Why did Arthur have a daisy? His question was answered when the young blonde began picking the petals off of the flower, muttering under his breath.

Curious, France got closer and watched as Arthur tore furiously at the flower. At the last petal, Arthur's fingers hesitated over the soft essence. Sighing in defeat, he finally plucked the petal from its stem and let both fall to the ground. _'A love me not?'_ Francis wondered curiously as he watched Arthur bring a hand to his face. _'Who for?'_

"Stupid Francis." Arthur muttered, making said Frenchman jump in surprise. _'How did he know!'_ the long haired blonde wondered, thinking Arthur knew he was there. However, when he saw Arthur begin to cry, he realized his question had just been answered.

"Does he really…not care…?" Arthur said to himself, trying to rub the tears from his eyes. Smiling softly, Francis bent down and retrieved one of the petals that had flown astray in Arthur's frustration. Coming closer yet, Francis let the petal drop in front of Arthur's face and watched as the young Brit noticed the petal then spun around to see who was behind him.

"There," Francis stated, coming to sit next to Arthur on the bench. "Loves you." Arthur was blushing madly, tears still at the corners of his eyes. "Now it's mutual."

For a moment, Arthur seemed at a loss for words. Then,

"Who would believe in such a stupid game?" coughing 'nonchalantly' and glancing around uncomfortably. Francis chuckled and kissed Arthur on the nose, being rewarded with a bright red blush on the other's face.

"You." Arthur glared. "Me." Arthur blinked and Francis laughed again, this time kissing Arthur gently on the lips.

"Je' taime."

**Michelle is actually Seychelles. Her name was fan-appointed because it fits to her country name best. **

**For those of you who suck at French, "Je' taime" means "I love you". XD**

**This is my first fluff story, so tell me if I need to improve. Constructive criticism welcome and WANTED. Please review. **


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